were headed forward, jouncing down over the curb and into the street. Horns blared and truckers shouted and Jack ignored them all. He just kept his foot pressed hard on the accelerator. The sedan shot out of the tunnel and up a ramp into daylight.
“What were those things?” cried Mama as she fought to get the door closed.
“Nothing!” shouted Papa from his perch on the running board. “Detritus. Callie, did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine. But, Papa, they said they were—”
“Jack!” Papa cut me off. “Where are we going?”
“Away from them!” Jack wrenched the wheel around.The sedan took the corner hard. I slammed against Mama, and the only reason Papa stayed on that running board was a burst of magic. The car dropped down again and bounced. Mama grabbed my shoulders with one hand and the door handle with the other and I didn’t even try to pull away.
Jack was driving us straight into traffic. Cars and vans and pedestrians swerved and dodged. A police whistle shrilled as we went past, and I swear I heard a cheer. Jack wrenched the wheel around again. The sedan plunged into an alleyway. He gunned it hard to cut across the path of a big black van. Mama screamed and I ducked reflexively, and then we were through, bumping down into another street. Jack turned right and geared down. All at once, we were rolling gently along like the calmest Sunday driver you ever met.
A streetlight turned red, and Jack stopped.
“Do you want to get in, Mr. LeRoux?” he asked.
“Yeah,” breathed Papa. I noticed his knuckles had turned white where he hung on to the door. “I think I’d better.”
It took him long enough to climb into the sedan’s backseat that the traffic behind us was starting to honk. Jack ignored them until Papa tapped the seat to say he was ready, and then Jack drove on at the same stately pace.
“Where do we go now?” asked Mama. “The train left hours ago.”
“And the station’s watched,” added Papa. He was looking at his palms. They were blistered. My own hands tightened up in sympathy.
“This is Chicago.” Jack shrugged. “We can get a hotel someplace. You can protect us, can’t you, Mr. LeRoux? Callie said you put a protection on the Imperial, back in Kansas.”
“It’s not that easy. I can set a protection around a place, yes, but it’s got to be a home, not just a hotel.”
“What? Why?”
“Because otherwise it won’t work, that’s why!” Papa shouted, and I jumped. “This blasted and bedamned world of yours! It’s got boundaries, it’s got
time
. It plays Cain with what magic can do! It—”
“Daniel!” said Mama coldly and Papa stopped. I felt him trying to wrestle his temper back into place. “We’re going to need
somewhere
to stay while we work out what to do next,” Mama went on. “Have we got any
useful
ideas?”
“Jack?” I said softly. I knew what had to happen. I also knew how bad Jack was trying to come up with a different answer. I was having a hard time believing any place could be safe again. We had the courts at war on the other side of the gates, and the Halfers (the Undone, whoever they were) after us on this side. But we had to at least try to get out of sight. “Jack, we’re in a stolen car and you’ve only got”—I tapped the gauge—“half a tank of gas, and no real money. And those guys, the Halfers, they saw this car. We try to get out of the city like this, they’ll be after us in a heartbeat.”
Jack stopped at another streetlight. He clenched the steering wheel. I watched his face. He was struggling with something at least as tough as Papa’s sudden burst of temper or my fear of being caught again. When the light changed, heeased us forward. His eyes flickered to the street signs, to the street in front of us, and back again. Not once did he look over at me. “All right. I guess I’m gonna have to take you home.”
Chicago’s a pretty flat place. I don’t quite know why it seemed like we were going down as
“What were those things?” cried Mama as she fought to get the door closed.
“Nothing!” shouted Papa from his perch on the running board. “Detritus. Callie, did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine. But, Papa, they said they were—”
“Jack!” Papa cut me off. “Where are we going?”
“Away from them!” Jack wrenched the wheel around.The sedan took the corner hard. I slammed against Mama, and the only reason Papa stayed on that running board was a burst of magic. The car dropped down again and bounced. Mama grabbed my shoulders with one hand and the door handle with the other and I didn’t even try to pull away.
Jack was driving us straight into traffic. Cars and vans and pedestrians swerved and dodged. A police whistle shrilled as we went past, and I swear I heard a cheer. Jack wrenched the wheel around again. The sedan plunged into an alleyway. He gunned it hard to cut across the path of a big black van. Mama screamed and I ducked reflexively, and then we were through, bumping down into another street. Jack turned right and geared down. All at once, we were rolling gently along like the calmest Sunday driver you ever met.
A streetlight turned red, and Jack stopped.
“Do you want to get in, Mr. LeRoux?” he asked.
“Yeah,” breathed Papa. I noticed his knuckles had turned white where he hung on to the door. “I think I’d better.”
It took him long enough to climb into the sedan’s backseat that the traffic behind us was starting to honk. Jack ignored them until Papa tapped the seat to say he was ready, and then Jack drove on at the same stately pace.
“Where do we go now?” asked Mama. “The train left hours ago.”
“And the station’s watched,” added Papa. He was looking at his palms. They were blistered. My own hands tightened up in sympathy.
“This is Chicago.” Jack shrugged. “We can get a hotel someplace. You can protect us, can’t you, Mr. LeRoux? Callie said you put a protection on the Imperial, back in Kansas.”
“It’s not that easy. I can set a protection around a place, yes, but it’s got to be a home, not just a hotel.”
“What? Why?”
“Because otherwise it won’t work, that’s why!” Papa shouted, and I jumped. “This blasted and bedamned world of yours! It’s got boundaries, it’s got
time
. It plays Cain with what magic can do! It—”
“Daniel!” said Mama coldly and Papa stopped. I felt him trying to wrestle his temper back into place. “We’re going to need
somewhere
to stay while we work out what to do next,” Mama went on. “Have we got any
useful
ideas?”
“Jack?” I said softly. I knew what had to happen. I also knew how bad Jack was trying to come up with a different answer. I was having a hard time believing any place could be safe again. We had the courts at war on the other side of the gates, and the Halfers (the Undone, whoever they were) after us on this side. But we had to at least try to get out of sight. “Jack, we’re in a stolen car and you’ve only got”—I tapped the gauge—“half a tank of gas, and no real money. And those guys, the Halfers, they saw this car. We try to get out of the city like this, they’ll be after us in a heartbeat.”
Jack stopped at another streetlight. He clenched the steering wheel. I watched his face. He was struggling with something at least as tough as Papa’s sudden burst of temper or my fear of being caught again. When the light changed, heeased us forward. His eyes flickered to the street signs, to the street in front of us, and back again. Not once did he look over at me. “All right. I guess I’m gonna have to take you home.”
Chicago’s a pretty flat place. I don’t quite know why it seemed like we were going down as
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